Supping With the Devil
by Muffinzelda
Summary: An unexpected encounter with Nick Cornish leaves Lewis questioning his new relationship with Hobson. Meanwhile, Innocent gives Hobson a reality check of her own. And as usual, Hathaway has to pick up the pieces. Set between The Ramblin' Boy and Intelligent Design with references to both episodes.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- This story is for fan purposes only. All of the characters and quoted text are property of their respective owners (not me) and are used here without permission.

Supping With the Devil

_Cornish: A drink, for old times' sake? _

_Lewis: There isn't a spoon long enough…_

_Cornish: For supping with the devil? Very good, Robbie. Almost witty._

_Lewis: You do know that from now on everybody in the force will be on your back?_

_Cornish: You'll have to find me first. See you..._

_-The Ramblin' Boy _

Prologue:

Inspector Lewis sauntered off to quench his raging thirst at the Whitehorse with Chief Superintendent Innocent and their colleagues. What would Nick Cornish say if he knew that Lewis was off to have drinks with his boss? He'd likely reprise his line about Robbie Lewis and the Ladybird's book of policing. Lewis himself didn't give Cornish a second thought, though. He was looking forward to seeing James Hathaway freshly returned from Croatia, though the real reason for his lively step was Laura Hobson. Lewis and Hobson were a couple now, and he wondered if (Innocent) and how (Hathaway) should find out. Lewis decided that he would just quietly hold Hobson's hand under the table and then assume that the other detectives would figure it out. Dr Hobson, as we know, had other ideas.

* * *

The next morning…

Sergeant Hathaway decided it would be prudent to ring before turning up at his governor's flat the next morning. "Where should I pick you up, sir?" Prudent, yes, but with an undeniable bit of cheek.

"What do you mean?" Lewis countered. If Hathaway thought that he could tease Lewis, the senior detective was going to turn the tables by obfuscating at every turn.

"Your flat or her house, sir?"

"My flat, of course."

"Do you have company?"

"Faithful Monty."

"And… Dr. Hobson?" Hathaway sounded incredulous that Hobson was not in the picture.

"Probably at her house or on her way in to work I'd think." Lewis said nonchalantly. He could just imagine Hathaway thinking: _but surely Lewis and Hobson must've…?!_

"So I'll be around in 15 minutes, if that's OK?"

"Better lick your fur, Monty, James doesn't want to see anything untoward!" Lewis did enjoy teasing Hathaway.

At the appointed hour, Lewis hopped into Hathaway's car with unusual alacrity. "Morning, James!"

If his eyes hadn't told him his passenger was Robbie Lewis, Hathaway wouldn't have believed it. The Inspector's cheery demeanour was unrecognizable to the sergeant who had come to expect a curmudgeon.

"You're certainly chipper this morning, sir. Sleep well?"

"Heh." Lewis just smiled. "I suppose you're going to gloat. Go ahead."

"Gloat about what, sir?"

"You were right all those years, ribbing me about Hobson."

"Ah, yes." Hathaway was glad to be receiving credit. "I am the last person who should be consulted on relationships, of course, but it was as plain as the nose on your face since the day we met. She was rubbing your shoulder in the pathology lab. The way she retracted her arm when I walked in made it pretty clear. I never thought you'd actually do something about it, mind you. If I'd known that all I had to do was disappear to Croatia for a while, I'd have left years ago." Hathaway suddenly looked uncomfortable as he wondered about his own future plans and how to tell Lewis that he might leave for good.

Lewis sensed his discomfort and decided to change the subject. "Hobson or not, I'm glad you're back, James, so let's have no more talk of you leaving. Remind me again why we're going to Heathrow?"

"Right. DI Grainger's case. Innocent needs us to bring in one Victoria Merton, pastry chef with possible ties to a prostitution ring. She's expected to arrive on a flight from Frankfort."

"Innocent needs detectives for that?"

"Well, we can always charge her with obstructing an enquiry, but we're supposed to interrogate her first to see if we can extract any more than Grainger was able to. Airport lock-up is going to make a room available to us. I think you're sitting on the case file. Sir." Hathaway had the habit of briefly pausing before adding 'sir' to mitigate any demeaning remarks.

Lewis shifted to retrieve the folder and put it on his lap. Hathaway continued to enumerate possible charges with which they could inculpate Ms Merton, but Lewis' mind wandered. He opened the file and pretended to read.

He closed his eyes and remembered watching the sunrise from the swing in Laura Hobson's garden—their last blissful moments together before she drove him home an hour before Hathaway's phone call. In a few minutes' time, Hathaway noticed that Lewis was snoring. _He didn't get much sleep last night after all_, Hathaway thought- and blushed a little as he did so.

* * *

Lewis and Hathaway made it to Heathrow with plenty of time before the arriving flight of the Merton Pie Madame, so they waited at an airport café. Lewis was grateful for the caffeine. Half-way through his coffee, he saw Hathaway do a double-take which prompted Lewis to ask, 'what?'

"It appears, sir, that you are irresistible!" Lewis gave Hathaway a bemused look. "First, Dr Hobson throws herself at you at the Whitehorse, now I do believe that Nick Cornish wants to buy you a drink."

Lewis turned around and saw Nick Cornish two tables over, gesturing that Lewis come over and join him. Lewis glowered into his coffee cup. "I suppose I owe it to Louise to make a last ditch effort." He said before leaving Hathaway to join Cornish.

"Robbie, if you're following me, you're not doing it very discretely." Cornish stated.

"And you're not hiding very well." Lewis spied the ticket tucked into Cornish's passport. "So, Buenos Aires it is then." Cornish smiled, but declined to comment. Lewis decided to cut to the chase. "I know that you made arrangements with Lou, but did you at least say goodbye to the boys?"

"I missed so much of their childhood working this job they'll hardly notice the difference."

Lewis hoped that he could exploit the common ground of fatherhood. "I know, man. I missed a lot too. There is so much I wish I could go back and do over- particularly with me son- but you have the chance to fix things before it's too late."

Cornish rolled his eyes and arrogantly dismissed Lewis' sentiment. "Look, Robbie, I'll never win father of the year, but they'll be well taken care of."

"Ach, Nick, I used to think we were cut from the same cloth."

"We are, Robbie. It was time for a change, no? Need to sow my oats, just like you. How's your vixen of a pathologist?" Lewis tried- and failed- to hide his grin. "That's right, Robbie, news travels fast."

Lewis regained his fatherly expression and focused back on the Cornishes. "Completely different situation, me and Hobson. Lou's a good lass, man. What do you want with anyone else, let alone someone as promiscuous as Tara Faulkner?"

Cornish did not appreciate Lewis' interest in his personal life and knew that Lewis himself was infinitely more vulnerable. Cornish went for the kill. "Your wife may be dead, but that doesn't make Laura Hobson any less promiscuous than Tara Faulkner."

Lewis was far too experienced a policeman to let an adversary draw him into an emotional conflict. He stared down Cornish with a contemptuous façade, though on the inside, his heart beat had gone irregular and he felt lightheaded.

Hathaway, who must have super-human hearing, leapt up from his seat two tables over and entered the fray. "Actually, from a morality standpoint, Dr Hobson is far more honourable than Mrs Faulkner in that she has not broken any marriage vows. Let's not even consider drug-smuggling." Lewis had never in his life been more grateful to see Hathaway's smug face.

Cornish snorted dismissively at Hathaway. "Good bagman, sticking up for your governor's girlfriend. Look, son. Hobson flirts like it's part of the job description."

"I'm aware. She called me 'dishy.' Hathaway said, completely deadpan. "Most detectives have the good sense not to distort innocuous flirting into something more."

"Do they, now? Wonder what Chief Superintendent Johnson would make of that. Do you know how many police officers she's been with over the years, sergeant? Ask Robbie. I'm sure he's been keeping track."

"We're done here." Lewis stated and walked away. The initial shock of Cornish's insult had passed and now Lewis was struggling to contain his rage.

Hathaway followed Lewis, but turned and made an accusatory gesture to Cornish. "Hobson saved the best for last."

Once out of the airport gate, Lewis' emotions were about to erupt. Cornish had insulted Val's memory and slandered Laura. Lewis couldn't abide Cornish's rendition of her sexual history when the night before, Lewis and Hobson had been intimate- saying everything and touching everywhere- but they hadn't actually consummated their relationship. His fury towards Cornish and his desire for Hobson combined as if they were a fuse and a flame. Only a few seconds more and Lewis lost control.


	2. Chapter 2

Dr Hobson was starting to worry when she had no word from Lewis despite the fact that she rang multiple times, left two voice mails, and one text. Eventually, she decided it was time to try Hathaway. He didn't answer his mobile either, but he must have checked the voice mail because five minutes later, she received a text. _hit a snag in London. can't talk now, but don't worry, R is fine. {3 ;)_ "Less than three? Less than three what?" Hobson asked aloud.

Hobson reasoned that if she could find some business to bring her to the police station and "casually" run into Innocent, the Chief Super might give her some indication as to what was keeping Lewis in London. Laura Hobson and Jean Innocent were not friends by any stretch of the imagination, but they had socialized at the pub last night and Innocent did seem genuinely happy for her and Lewis.

As it happened, Innocent was all too happy to take the bait when she saw Hobson in the hall. "Dr Hobson, can I have a word with you in my office? Close the door." Innocent pounced as if she had been wanting to ring up Hobson herself. "Have a seat, Laura."

Hobson noticed the shift to her given name and knew that Innocent was not going to talk to her about a case. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but I just had to spring your boyfriend from airport jail."

Hobson's eyes widened. "What happened?"

"Nick Cornish happened. There was an altercation… of sorts."

"I know that Robbie was upset that he couldn't prove Nick's role in the drug-smuggling operation, but it's not like Robbie to resort to vigilante justice over a meth lab." Hobson rambled with worry.

"Mmhmm, yes, out loud, Robbie's asking us 'what kind of man goes into the crystal meth business knowing that people will die hopelessly addicted?' But it's more personal than that. What he's really asking is 'what kind of man leaves his wife and two kids?' He's not really upset about the meth lab, Laura. He's upset about Louise Cornish and her boys."

Hobson felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized two things. First, that Innocent had a keen insight into Lewis' mind; and second, that there were things that Lewis still hadn't shared with her. "Go on," she said bravely.

Innocent continued. "Back before we had ID'ed Strickley's body, Robbie had come to see me about Nick. It seems that his wife Louise had contacted faithful Robbie to knock some sense into her husband. I get the impression that he and Val had been social with the Cornishes some years back."

Hobson found herself wondering what else Lewis had confided in Innocent over the years.

"Anyway, Robbie ran into Nick at Heathrow today and intervened on Louise's behalf. What ensued wasn't pretty. Thank God James was there." Innocent had the verbatim transcript of what was said thanks to Hathaway, but she had the good sense not to tell Hobson about the unflattering comparisons that had been made between her and Tara Faulkner. While Innocent undeniably enjoyed having the upper hand in the conversation, she did not wish to be cruel.

Laura swallowed and asked, "Is Robbie OK?"

Innocent nodded affirmatively and continued. "I managed to convince them not to press any charges, but this does have to go down in his permanent record. James is driving them back from London now with a suspect in tow. Believe it or not, some actual police work happened today too. Again, thanks to Sergeant Hathaway." Innocent sighed. "Don't tell Robbie that we had this conversation, please. I just thought that you should know, and I am not sure he would tell you."

Hobson thanked Innocent and gave a wan smile.

"You two will be fine. Everyone here is pulling for you. Seeing the two of you laugh and smile together, well, it's a morale boost for the whole station. I can't even remember the last time that I kissed Mr Innocent like that. Young love, eh?"

_Young love? _Hobson thought the idea strange as she considered herself so experienced in love that she was almost jaded against it, but Lewis did have a way of making her revert to an impetuous teenager. Case in point: launching herself into his arms when she saw him at the Whitehorse yesterday. All she could think about was flaunting to the world that Robbie Lewis was finally hers. He was not one for Public Displays of Affection, but he'd boldly reciprocated her kiss in front of their colleagues and accompanied her home.

_Damn it, Robbie! _For all they'd shared last night, he was still an enigma to her. Now, she was afraid she'd lost him to martyrdom once again. They had cared about each other for years _(years!)_ but it seemed that every time they got close, he spooked and fled, only to come back jealous if she was seeing someone else. She thought that they had finally overcome the barrier; figuratively and literally climbing over a fence together, holding hands, and not letting go.

_Maybe I should have made him go all the way,_ she thought. _Then there would be no doubt._ God knows they were both willing, but she had been enjoying his tender and methodical approach to their physical relationship. She wasn't used to that, being with someone who didn't rush into bed- bed if they made it that far. But it was different with Robbie, and she had never in her life felt more cherished and loved. Laura had believed Robbie last night; she believed his words; she believed his caresses; she believed that they were really together now. He had let her run her fingers over the many scars that policing had left on his person. But now she realized once again that it was his emotional scars she couldn't touch. With this fresh reminder courtesy of Cornish, would Robbie revert to interpreting his attraction to Laura as a betrayal of his wife's memory? Would he run away from her again? Now that she had known his touch, Laura Hobson was resolute that she could not live without it.


	3. Chapter 3

Lewis and Hathaway drove back to Oxford with the raven-haired Victoria Merton in the back seat in their most awkward silence ever. After depositing Ms Merton at the station and a debriefing with Innocent and Grainger, it was time to call it a day. Hathaway was loath to mention the morning's misadventure, but once the two were alone in the car he could no longer suppress his curiosity. "Forgive my asking, sir, but... Cornish mentioned Chief Superintendent Johnson. Martin Johnson who just retired from Regional Crime? Isn't he the one who always calls you Bob?"

Lewis huffed. "Always was a prat, Johnson, but I can't say I fault her judgment. For a while, I even thought about leaving Morse to join Johnson at Regional Crimes meself. His star was on the rise- twenty years ago. Look, Laura's not a…" (He struggled to find the right word) "… tart; she is a workaholic who meets people at work."

Nevertheless, Lewis cringed as he flashed back to a night many years ago. He was sitting in Morse' jag, watching as Hobson made her doe eyes at Morse; yes, even Morse. Lewis didn't know what was said, but the expression on her young face showed rejection. Lewis had then driven Morse to Adele Cecil's house. While he thought that Ms Cecil was a good match for Morse- certainly a better fit than Hobson- he himself had simply wanted to go home to his wife that night. Instead, there he sat in the jag, waiting for Morse to emerge. So much wasted time he could have spent with Val…

"And why the hell did Cornish have to bring up Val?" Robbie abruptly asked aloud, unsure if he was asking Hathaway or God or the Devil. He didn't wait for a response. "Ach, I'm mad at meself mostly. Bloody coward, I was. Shouldn't have let him get away with it, using Val to hurt me like that. And I should have defended Laura. I should've just punched Cornish instead of… well, you know what happened."

"No, sir, I think it took a lot of strength not to beat him to a bloody pulp. You took the high road. Until that last part…" Hathaway snickered, but Lewis didn't hear him. Lewis was now transfixed by what he saw through the windscreen of Hathaway's car.

Those same haunted doe eyes from many years ago were waiting for him on his front stoop. This time, the illumination of the headlights showed fine lines on Laura's face that reminded him that the doe eyes were closer to fifty than to thirty, but age didn't diminish their allure. Her look of wanting and hope mixed with concern and even desperation made him realize that Hobson had been waiting for him for a long time. His veins were still quivering with anger, and he didn't want her to see him like this.

"Bloody hell." He said under his breath. "You've got to get rid of her for me, James."

"No. I won't do that. I'm tired of seeing both of you hurt. You need her, and she needs you. Whatever you do, don't reject her, sir." Hathaway said. "You'll never forgive yourself if you do." Hathaway continued to himself in silence. _I want you to have someone in your life if I leave… when I leave…. _

Lewis reluctantly got out of the car and sat down next to Hobson on the stoop. He didn't say anything but put his arm around her.

"You weren't answering your phone." She wanted to ask him 'why,' but it came out as a statement instead.

"No." He declined to elaborate.

"God, Robbie, what have you done to your hand?"

He didn't answer her question but instead apologized. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long." The double entendre was not lost on her.

She noticed his quickened pulse. "And your blood pressure's up, isn't it?"

"Rough day. Sorry, love, I'm afraid I'm useless tonight. You should go home."

"It's OK, Robbie. Maybe I can help you relax." She started to knead his shoulders.

"No. Not tonight."

"Don't shut me out, Robbie, not now when you've only just let me in!"

Robbie knew that if Laura stayed tonight he would either force himself on her brutishly or weep and beg her to marry him. Maybe both. Either way, he didn't want it to be like that. But how could he tell her? "I want you, Laura." The simple truth, though his voice was sharp. "But I'm not in a good place right now. Don't want to take that out on you."

"It's all right." She squeezed his hand, which had bled through the gauze. "Your hand needs attention, though. Will you at least let me change the dressing on your wound?" He relented and stood up to open the door. "Do you have first aid supplies, or do you want me to go to the all-night chemist? I don't mind."

The faintest smile permeated his lips as he remembered his daughter and said, "Check the loo. Our Lyn's a nurse." He pointed her towards the loo and then very nearly shoved her in.

_That was odd_, Laura thought. Robbie himself had just realized that the loo was the only room in his flat where he didn't still have a picture of Val. Laura found the drawer in which Lyn had stocked every bandage and ointment imaginable, and as she returned to the kitchen she spied Robbie trying to hide a picture of him and Val in a drawer.

Laura's heart lurched in two directions. She was relieved to know that he had made his choice to stop living in the past, but she ached to watch him deal with it. Symbolic fence-hopping notwithstanding, he was still making the adjustment from widower to boyfriend.

"You don't have to do that for me, Robbie. You had a good marriage and nothing changes that. He turned around to face her and sighed in relief. "After all," Laura continued, "Oxford is rife with my dodgy ex-boyfriends. So you have nothing to hide from me."

He gazed needily into her eyes. "That's why I'm with you now."

"My dodgy exes?"

"No, honesty. Things are out in the open."

"Ah, yes, well I'm honest to a fault sometimes, but that's better than keeping it all bottled up, isn't it?" She moved towards him and started to clean and dress his wound. He closed his eyes and flinched slightly as she worked. "Are you going to tell me what happened today?"

"Got into it with Nick Cornish."

"Mmm." She paused. He was afraid she would prompt him for more about Cornish and was relieved to know she was preoccupied with his wound. "These lacerations on your knuckles aren't consistent with a fist fight. You hit something."

"I didn't let him see that he got to me, but once he was out of my sight, I punched a vending machine. Left a nice spider-web pattern in the glass, so James said."

"Ah. I hope you at least stole some good munchie bars. I'm starving."

He didn't smile at her joke. "Made a bloody fool of meself, really."

"Bloody's the word all right. You know, your knuckles wouldn't bleed like this if you didn't have such dry skin. You should use a moisturizing lotion. I have some hand cream in my purse." She finished wrapping his hand and raised it to her lips for a kiss. She then took his other uninjured hand and massaged some lotion into it. She was growing concerned with his continued lack of response. "Sorry," she said, "I should know by now that you don't want me to fuss over you like that."

His voice was barely audible as he whispered, "Actually, I kinda like it when you fuss over me. Moisturizer's not something a single bloke remembers to pick up at the store."It was his way of acknowledging that he needed Laura; she was a soothing balm for his body and soul.

"OK, then." Laura smiled and caressed his cheek. He touched her hand on his face, and she took that as a cue to go to the stove and put the kettle on. He went to the cupboard and plunked down a package of biscuits on the table. "You said you were hungry?" He offered.

"Hungry for you, mostly."

He moved to her and they held each other, Laura rubbing his back and Robbie stroking her hair, until the kettle at last began to hiss. She poured the water into the teapot and they sat down.

The two of them overindulged in biscuits as the tea steeped. They shared a guilty laugh when they realized that they had finished the entire box. "Sometimes you just have to give in to temptation, I guess." Laura's facial expression made it clear that she was not just talking about the biscuits.

Robbie thought about how Laura sparkled against the backdrop of his drab flat. His flat wasn't dirty for he cleaned well, and it certainly wasn't cluttered by his meagre possessions. But it somehow lacked the warmth of a home. "It might be time to redecorate me old flat." He said, adding, "and if that means shifting a few photos around, then so be it."

Laura reassured him that it was fine, but she suspected that his bedroom was still a shrine to Val. She knew that Robbie would have to deal with that before she could spend the night.

When they'd finished their tea, he yawned. "Ach, I'm sorry. I'm knackered, love. Could I walk you to your car?"

Laura looked into his eyes and consented. "Only if you promise to ring me first thing tomorrow." Part of loving someone is knowing when they need their space.

"I promise, Laura." He kissed her tenderly. Laura was able to leave feeling secure that they would be just fine.

* * *

Epilogue:

Robbie rose in the morning, washed his face, and called the woman who sweetened his dreams in short order. It felt like an eternity until he could see her at lunch. Laura was waiting for him at a sidewalk café when she saw his beaming face shine through a cloud of ferns and roses. Her stomach had butterflies all over again. He offered her the bouquet with his still bandaged hand. She wrapped one hand around his on the bouquet and put the other on his back. They kissed. "Sorry that I was such a pill last night, love. I was just under a cloud."

"We'll weather the storm, Robbie."

"Of course we will. Look, I've got a day off next week, and I want to do this right. I'll make you dinner at me flat, and you can spend the night if you want."

"I'd like that very much," she said in a seductive tone. "But can you cook?"

"Just wait, I'm going to roast you a hen." Robbie started to laugh like a devilish little boy, like they did on the bridge after Laura had misinterpreted his suggestion to go for "a ride."

Laura was visibly confused. "A hen?" she asked.

"A Cornish hen."

She rolled her eyes at his pun and giggled. "I can't wait. We'll pick the bones clean and your Monty can have at the gizzards."

"Perfect. It's settled, then." And it was- both perfect and settled.


End file.
